in the eye of the beholder
by go forth
Summary: Set in X-Men: First Class. Six times Raven has felt beautiful, and none of them have been with boys in glasses or men with quick tempers.


**in the eye of the beholder  
><strong>_set in: x-men: first class _

i.

She's about nine when she first starts stealing.

Nothing major, just the food she needs to survive. She's never met her parents (why would they want a mutant child?) and the orphanage just couldn't handle all the… Trouble she would cause with the others. They told her they weren't kicking her out, not really, but that's exactly what it was. They just put it into more complicated terms. "Relocation," that's what they told her. "We're sending you to a more… Suitable place."

Yeah, right.

She's old enough to know she's different. She's always known. She's not stupid, either. She's heard stories about what's going around in the world. She knows she should be lucky she's not of Jewish faith and to be glad she's not living in Germany. She also knows there's no chance for an orphan child – an orphan _freak_ – like her unless she finds some food and a way to survive. Mostly people catch her before she gets to steal anything, but that's only because she isn't using her mutation.

She's ten when she first uses that.

She doesn't really know what compels her to go inside the big house. Of course she'll find food and nice things there, but does she actually think she can pull it off? It's crazy to think that. And yet, she chooses to go inside. What does she have to lose? She's half-dead anyway.

She doesn't find anyone useful to imitate the first few minutes of walking into the house, not until she finds a picture of an older woman, perhaps the mother of the household. It's good enough to imitate for the time needed and it's late enough at night that she doubts anyone will find her. She heads straight for the kitchen – she needs to be in and out – and quietly walks over to the refrigerator. She works quickly and silently, practically stuffing her face with whatever looks good (which is everything; she's never seen such an amazing collection of food before). She feels like she'll get away with it for once.

That is, until the boy comes down.

He's her age, give or take a few years, and he's smart enough to figure out she's nothing like his mother would be. She decides she'll have to think quick, and the only thing that comes to her mind is to show her true self. _That'll make him run in terror and buy me enough time to run away,_ she thinks. And so she changes back to who she really is, expecting him to run.

When he doesn't, she first starts to panic. What will become of her now? Will he turn her in to the government? And then she thinks, _Why isn't he running away?_ So she asks him and he tells her he's like her. Different. And while she's very excited that she's not the only one, and that there are others out there like her, all she can think is, _He doesn't think I'm disgusting to look at._

And that's close enough to beautiful for her.

ii.

It's on his fourteenth birthday that she starts seeing him in a new light.

They have a little private party before his _real_ party the next day (unlike her, his mutations are on the inside and therefore no one finds him to be a freak). She still hasn't found a human form to settle on yet, though lately she's been aching for one. She wants to look like him. She wants him to look at her like he looks at his friends. His girl friends, in particular.

She makes him a cupcake because she has spare time, considering she doesn't go to school. She finds some matches and tries to fit as many on one cupcake as she can. She only gets six on and she apologizes over and over but he insists that it's the nicest thing anyone has done for him. She blushes, and even though you can't tell through her blue exterior, he's getting good at being able to tell through her body language. He's not quite sure yet, though, so he lets it go and blows out the six candles.

"What did you wish for?" She inquires because she's aware of the rich's traditions by now. They would never wish for anything at the orphanage – it was considered ungrateful of them if they did because, well, they were lucky to be alive, weren't they?

"I can't tell you that, Raven, or else it won't come true." He's told her this before but he says it with a secretive smile on his face.

She takes it as a hint that he'll cave soon, so she pushes. "Oh, _come on_, you just wished for something _embarrassing_, didn't you?" Now it's her turn to smirk and his turn to blush. She envies that she can see the pinkness in his cheeks; that his blushing is clear as day to her. Why, oh why, can't she have that?

He tries to think of a way to turn the topic away from him. He glances at her hand resting on the table near him and he reaches for it. She reacts at first, pulling her hand away on instinct, and looks at him. He's already looking at her, at her exquisite eyes, eyes that always fascinated him. "I just want to feel your skin," He half-whispers, half-pleads.

She hesitates because he's never done it before, never. But she's secretly been longing for someone to touch her, even by just the slightest. So she lets him. _Besides_, she reckons, _it is his birthday._

It feels different than he thought it would. He imagined her skin to be rough and scaly, almost like a fish. He's surprised to find that it's actually rather soft, like a pile of feathers. He can hear her breathing slowly vaguely but he's too fascinated by the sight in front of him to really take notice. He's really never seen anything like it. The brilliant color, the structure, the texture. "Beautiful," He mutters under to himself his breath.

She catches it though, the whisper, and it's the first time she's heard that word used to describe her.

iii.

She's fourteen when she realizes that Charles just doesn't understand.

He's already perfect. He doesn't have to hide anything. Society accepts him for who he is. That's not the case for her. She's ugly; a monster. She's been quick to learn that Charles thinks there's nothing to be ashamed of, that there's nothing to hide. He's stuck on the belief that humans will accept people like her.

Sometimes she feels older than him, more mature than him.

"Charles," She says one time as he is sitting down to study for a final, "Can you tell me something?"

He mumbles something incoherent, which she takes as a yes.

"Who is someone you find pretty?"

This gets him to look up from his books.

"Pardon?"

"Name someone you find pretty, please."

He looks at her dumbfounded as she stands in front of him, wide-eyed and expecting. "Name someone I find pretty?" He asks, as if he did not hear her correctly the first time, or the next.

She simply nods as if it it's the most natural thing in the world. "Preferably someone famous. Like an actress."

"Whatever for?"

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. "Just answer my question please!"

"Alright!" He rubs his forehead and tries to rack his brain for someone. There are plenty of women, of course, he finds attractive. Famous and non-famous alike. But it's as if all the names in the world just slip from his brain. He thinks for a few minutes longer until he just blurts out a random name. "Bette Davis, the American actress, is pretty, I suppose."

He watches her as she considers his answer, as if she's trying to match the face with a name. He can see what she's trying to do now: She's trying to look like the actress he just mentioned. He can now understand what's going on.

"Not this again, Raven."

Lately, Raven had been asking him about her appearance. He had quickly found out when he was a boy that she was self-conscience about the way she looked. Secretly, he can't blame her. It isn't that she's ugly (just the opposite, in fact), but looking so different from everyone else can have its effect on people.

She looks at him shamefully before looking down. "I just want to look like everyone else, Charlie," She whispers.

He places his hand under her chin like all the men do in cheesy movies and lifts it up to look at her. "You shouldn't," He says softly and confidently.

It's the look in his eyes that makes her feel beautiful.

iv.

She's sixteen when she first comes up with a permanent disguise.

It's somewhat of her own creation, something she never knew she was capable of doing. She thought she could only imitate, but it turns out that isn't true. She takes components of people that she likes, so in a way it is imitation, but the putting them together, that's all her. She finishes one summer morning and she's very pleased with her result.

She's nervous about showing Charles at first because he really never understands her when she speaks of wanting to look normal. He's in the kitchen studying and she takes her time to get there. In her mind she prepares what she wants to say but in the end she knows it'll all fly out the window.

"Hello there," She begins, her voice calm and his back to her.

He doesn't look up from his books as she walks over to where he's sitting. "Hey, Raven,"

She waits a moment for him to look up and when she doesn't she gets anxious. Now, instead of wishing he wouldn't notice, that's all she wants him to do. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No, thank you, I'm alright – " His word stops short as he finally looks up at her. Often she would imitate a person they both knew to play tricks on him, but he has never seen the person before.

She smiles because finally, _finally_ he notices her and he seems to almost like what he sees. "Do you like it? I think this is going to be my permanent disguise."

This seems to knock him from his trance. "Your_ what?_"

"Permanent disguise," She repeats calmly, "So I can go out with you now and make friends and maybe even go to school. It's so boring around here!"

He has to admit it's a good idea. And she's wasn't that bad looking, either. "Well, good job."

"Good job?" She giggles lightly and runs her hand through her new blonde locks. "Thanks, I suppose. Am I as pretty as that Bette Davis?" _Am I flirting with Charles?_

"No, better," He smiles at her, not quite catching on to the flirting (_or was he?_). "You're beautiful, Raven."

And she feels beautiful, but perhaps for all the wrong reasons.

v.

It isn't until she's nineteen that she realizes she'll never be good enough for him.

It's after his celebration party for getting his degree. He's finally a professor (well, not quite, but he legally could be) and she's never been so proud of him. She thinks back to the previous night, when she asked him if he would ever date her, and how he had reacted, and she involuntarily shivered. She hadn't known what she was doing or thinking and it's embarrassing to think about.

He leaves the bar with some random girl with brown hair and she regretfully notes how she's used to it by now. How in the morning he'll stumble through the door with a massive headache and look to her to pick up the broken pieces of the night before. And she'll swear that never again, she'll never pick them up again, but then he'll stumble through the door like he always does, humble and pathetic looking, and she'll cut herself cleaning up the mess he made.

She rolls her eyes as he finally leaves and heads over to the bar. What's the point of going home, anyway? The house is cold and hostile without Charles and she doesn't feel like sulking. Not tonight.

She desperately needs a drink but she's not yet of age, so she orders a soft drink. She takes a tiny sip as she glances around the room. Most of their friends had left after Charles and there is a surprising peace in the atmosphere.

"You're Raven Xavier, right? Charles' sister?"

She looks over at the handsome brunette next to her and resists the urge to sigh. Charles suggested they pose as long-lost siblings as they attend grade school together and she had agreed because, well, Charles is always right. She nods and fakes a smile at the boy.

"That's me."

"You look like you could use a drink."

She doesn't know whether to be insulted or not, but she _sodesperately_ does want a drink, so she laughs softly and nods her agreement. He orders her some sort of alcoholic drink, glaring at the bartender's questioning looks, and they make small talk.

By the third drink, she's starting feel a buzz in her fingertips and brain.

She doesn't know how, but she winds up in a taxi with the boy whose name has slipped her mind (just like everything else) and his lips are on her neck, mumbling "_beautiful_" against her burning skin over and over.

_Looks like you're going to be the one picking up the pieces this time, Charles. I'm beautiful now._

vi.

She's back home for the first time in a while and everything's changed.

She's different. Charles is different. Everything is different. Somehow the house she spent nine years of her life in doesn't feel the same. Somehow the boy she spent nine (_glorious_) years of her life with doesn't feel like the person she once knew.

She tries to look at him the way she did before, when she was twelve, but it's hard. She eventually tries not looking at him at all because she is different now and he is different now. Whenever she catches herself glancing at him, she replaces his face with Hank's in her mind. Hank, who seems stricken with her. Hank, who is sweet and nice and funny and a bit of a nerd, but that's okay. And better for her than Charles' was or will ever be.

But, of course, she can only lie to herself for so long.

With everything going on, she finds it hard to spend alone time with Charles, something she had been longing to do for a while. He's always busy helping the others prepare and use their powers for good and not evil. She finally gets her turn three days after they arrive at the house.

He tells her he left her for last because she's pretty much already mastered her mutation. "The only thing that's left is to better help your reflexes."

She thinks back to when Erik walked in on her working out and dropped the weight on her, leaving with only seconds to catch it – in her natural form. She can see it in his face that he was reading her mind, watching her memory as it was a movie. "Charles, you promised never to read my mind!"

"Sorry," He says a bit sheepishly, "I'm just trying to help. Come on, let's try some things."

They go through various exercises and trainings until her reflexes are better than ever and she can create parts on her body that better help her defend herself. They work longer than they've ever worked before and though it's very successful in the end, they're very sore.

"Alright," Charles says with a heavy breath, "That's enough for today. Good work." He pats her on the back lightly, but it's not good enough for her, because she pulls him into her arms and gives him a proper hug.

And just like that, they're young again. He's twelve and she's ten and they're both scared but they know that it's them against the world and they're unstoppable when they're together. She realizes how much she's missed this, how much she's missed _him_, and it makes her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

"Nothing's ever going to be the same, is it, Charles?" She mumbles her words into his chest because they're not ready to let go, not yet.

"Unfortunately, no," He states truthfully. He's never been able to lie to her.

She takes a deep breath, taking in his scent and his smell, and thinks back to earlier in the day when Hank were talking and flirting. She thinks that she would rather have this in an instant, and should that maybe mean something?

"Maybe it should," He speaks out of nowhere, and she realizes he's reading her mind again. She looks up to tell him to stop reading her mind when she feels his lips on hers. It's surprising and she hardly has any time to react, but in that instant, everything is perfect.

They're both fully aware that things will never be like this again and as soon as it's over they will have to pretend as if nothing ever happened. It should be upsetting but in a way it's exciting, them having their own little secret.

When they eventually pull away because they can't go on pretending doing this is okay, she feels happy and content and like she can do anything. She feels beautiful. For real, this time.

And that, to her, is better than any mutation.

* * *

><p>I watched <em>X-Men: First Class<em> on Friday and I shipped these two until the very end. There was just something about them I loved.


End file.
